


Saturdays

by qualisign



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drunk Sex, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, sorta? its pretty pg in terms of how smut goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9176437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qualisign/pseuds/qualisign
Summary: The Tallink-Silja line between Tallinn, Estonia and Helsinki, Finland is known for it's "booze cruise" status. Alcohol prices are much cheaper in Estonia, and duty-free vodka plus cheap breakfast buffet makes it especially popular for Saturday morning booze runs. Eduard Mägi, a grad student at Tallinn U, has a summer job as a cashier in a duty free shop on the ferry. While working with a plethora of intoxicated customers, a particular, working class Finnish man stays long past due to tell Eduard a million and a half one-sided stories.





	

 

Saturdays were both a joyful and awful time.

Eduard Mägi, a Tallinn native and unfortunate employee of the Tallink Silja line, didn't have much time to contemplate anything else. There was _always_ a catch to any summer job, but the payoff of free trips to Helsinki seemed good enough at the time. It saved him a considerable sum of added up transportation, and his friends who took the ferry to work in Finland griped about how nice the free transport perk was.

_Drunk Finns though._

Eduard was no stranger to the “booze cruise” status of Helsinki-Tallinn ferries. After all, he had shopped duty free the one summer he did work in Helsinki more times than he would like to admit. The drunk Finns (and Russians) were part of the entertainment, really. But that was when he was an observer. He could check out of the “show,” if there was one, whenever he wanted or, on the more fun side of things, let go with them, abandon all his social shortcomings and sing some bad karaoke.

The joys of being a passenger died a horrible death when _he_ became the one behind the counter. He expected awful situations and awful people, but working customer service at a duty free shop drained so much of his faith in humanity that he was well on his way to becoming a nihilist. It was only 8 AM, and he already witnessed a fight (the staff didn't really get involved so he could still laugh at that one), was yelled at by some impatient, wealthy Russian woman (he was basically not involved with how much he emotionally detached himself from the situation), and was dragged into helping some poor sap off the floor with his equally drunk group of friends when he tried to purchase _more_ vodka and gave up. Nothing about any of those encounters were atypical, and even more common were the Finns who fumbled with their wallets in tipsy, awkward silence, and those whose early morning intoxication prompted them to relay their entire life story to the poor cashier who didn't care and would rather distance himself from work by giving generic, automated responses with an empty, soulless smile.

His current “customer,” fell into the latter category, and considering how the line had died down, Eduard had no excuse for telling him to _go away_ so he could get back to observing the Saturday morning train wreck in peace.

“... So, then, I adopted this dog just the other week? A Japanese friend of mine gave me a cute name for him. Who knew it meant “flower egg?” His words were bleeding into each other. It would be sort of endearing if it weren't for the fact that Eduard didn't know how to deal with the obviously one-sided conversation. “Still, that's pretty cute. I wanna mix things up a little bit and get a spiked collar for him so he can be a terrifyingly adorable flower egg.”

“Right.”

“You don't look like you're having much fun.”

Well, he wasn't. That was reserved for relaying work stories after hours with friends. Not to say that he was irritated, but how was he supposed to fall into a comfortable, customer service pattern when a solid ninety-five percent of the clientele were drunk and unpredictable? He didn't have any sort of natural charisma and was painfully bad at small talk anyways. Thankfully, his customer allowed silences to happen without any prodding. Not being yelled at was also a nice plus. It was always a blessing when people retained common human decency even when inebriated.

“But, yeah, so my friends wandered off somewhere. I don't know where they went. I didn't mean to waste so much of your time...” The stranger's eyes wandered off, looking deep in thought. “I... don't even know your name, do I?”

“It's Eduard.” Short and to the point. After all, it just served as a springboard for another train of thought.

“Oh. Yeah. I know quite a few Eduards. I'm Timo by the way. But, wow, do I have a story for you about one of my coworkers...”

 

* * *

 

It really was strange how much you could learn from someone in the span of a half an hour, before Timo's friends actually managed to find him and drag him out. Even when business picked up again, he just stopped whatever story he was telling, stepped to the side, and then continued on again when Eduard had nothing to do without hesitation. Timo had absolutely no filter (though the alcohol probably played a large part in that) and got emotionally invested in stories one generally didn't tell complete strangers working customer service. Of course, that gave them content of actual substance, and Eduard had found himself actively listening after the first few. Not really responding much didn't seem to deter his vocal companion anyways as he went on about snowmobiling last winter, which reminded him of his ex boyfriend, which then brought them back to his dog. In fact, as a gesture of a budding friendship, Timo put his number into Eduard's phone before being yanked away for karaoke and cheap breakfast buffet. It was definitely the most positive work experience he had had all summer. He didn't even mind when the same, bitter Russian woman from earlier returned to complain at him about the poor quality of service on the ferry. No, her harsh words sailed right over his head because, hey, he wasn't the best when it came to fostering new friendships, and had somehow managed to do so with a random, drunk Finnish man on a booze cruise.

That didn't make it easy when his work hours were over, after a few more trips over the course of the day, returning to his shared apartment and acting on the good feelings. He hovered over the number several times throughout the night, writing and deleting at least twenty separate texts in between beers and a movie. His roommates didn't help him any; as both Alfred and Ivan were awful to watch television with. They glanced at his phone a few times, asked a few too many questions and _what did privacy even mean to either of them?_ It wasn't even a big deal; just some friendship connection built on a one time meeting. If Eduard never texted him, Timo would let it go and then they'd never see each other again until the next, awkward meeting when Eduard's shift lined up with Timo's booze run.

“Did ya finally meet a girl?” Alfred had grown bored and hovered over Eduard's shoulder at something like the twenty-seventh work-in-progress text.

Well, that was embarrassing. Even if it was far away from the truth. “No?”

“You're staring at your phone like you just fell in love, bro. Actually, knowing you, you probably did. You treat that thing like a first born child.” Alfred gave him a hard pat on the shoulder; perhaps a bit harder than he intended because it _hurt._ But then again, that's how things always were. Eduard was generally fine with it, but they had been sitting together for three hours. He wanted nothing more than to get up and go to his room, but Ivan was weird about making sure they had a “roommate bonding experience” once a week. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a thirty-something year old man's sulking the next day about why he wouldn't open up.

“You should let me help you write letter to the fine lady.” As if on cue... It was almost comical. Ivan unwrapped himself from the blanket cocoon he had buried himself in, and tried to get a good look at what Eduard was writing. The good thing was that it was currently nothing but ' _hello. So,'_ Still, was privacy even a thing?

“Good thing I'm not writing to a ' _fine lady_.'” He deleted what was already there, and with the pressure of two people looming over his shoulder (who he knew from experience would probably not leave without some kind of effort) he wrote something short and curt.

_'Hey. We should meet for coffee sometime.'_

Done. And before his roommates could ask too many questions (Alfred: because of an insatiable curiosity he had towards nearly everything and Ivan: because he was pretty sure that he was one of the man's only friends), he pushed them away to head for his room.

His phone buzzed against the nightstand an hour later, with a message wrapped in complex simplicity that both excited him and made him panic.

_'ok'_

Not really what he had been expecting from the strangely charismatic motormouth that was Timo, but then again, he had to remind himself that they had only known each other for a few hours... under unusual circumstances.

_'I only work Saturday morning next week. You free then?'_

_'yeah, I can do that. Guessing your job hasn't changed? I was planning on going to tallinn again anyways!'_ He figured. Timo seemed like the type who regularly would take advantage of accessible duty free, and equally accessible lower alcohol prices in Estonia. With the tax rate so high in Finland, he didn't understand why anyone would spend good money buying alcohol there.

_'Thanks. Try not to pass out before arriving.'_

_'excuse you, I didnt pass out today'_

_'Because you were too busy talking about your dog.'_

He ended up falling asleep with the same good feelings that he left the boat with, not even minding too much when Ivan barged into his room at 6 AM to remind him that he half-heartedly promised to get breakfast together “as friends.”

 

* * *

 

Saturdays were both a joyful and awful time.

This time, the joy was different though. Eduard had little patience for even the most funny of drunks, and just wished the ferry would move faster. He resisted the urge to compulsively check his phone, as the stream of early morning people had not dwindled yet, and he needed to do his job. Between the typical folks he usually dealt with though, was a familiar face. One that he was looking for.

“What a surprise! How are you doing?”

“Normal? Also, I told you I was going to be here?” He could smell the alcohol on Timo's breath, and noticed he didn't have anything in his hands for purchase. The man honestly looked exhausted, but Eduard thought against pointing it out. For one, a good eighty percent of the boat looked that way, and for two, he was, in fact, still working. “I mean, I... work here. Also,” _He wanted to be a somewhat decent employee to collect even the most mundane and pointless of references._ “You're sort of holding up the line. Come back later?”

“Oh.”

“It's nothing against you, just...”

“No, no. I get it. Besides, I think we still have plans?” Okay. Good. So he remembered, because Eduard hadn't texted him once over the course of the week and, much to his surprise, Timo hadn't texted him back either. That made him feel better. He still had to gesture for Timo to step out of line though, because the large man behind him had been glaring at the both of them for all of their stalling, and Eduard was pretty sure that the guy would not hesitate to snap them both in half if he didn't hurry up. Still, he didn't miss Timo's muttering.

“ _Sorry I talked about my dog so much.”_

Right. Sarcasm didn't translate well in text, especially when talking to a near stranger. He'd have to make sure to clear that up. For some reason (maybe one that he didn't want to admit to himself) he really, really wanted this budding friendship to work out.

 

* * *

 

Timo hung around the shop just like he had the first time. The only big differences were that his friends didn't come to drag him away (did he come by himself just for a coffee trip?) and that his words were much more subdued. Eduard chalked it up to him sobering up within the first twenty minutes, and thus, killing at least some of the reckless abandon he was introduced to.

He stayed that way even off of the ferry, allowing Eduard to take control and locate a quiet enough place for coffee, close enough to his apartment so that he wouldn't have more than a five minute walk on the way home. It was awkward to say the least. He wished he was better at small talk, because Timo would barely even make eye contact with him.

“... How's Hanatamago?” Timo perked up at that, with a strange look of adoration on his face.

“You remembered her?”

Was he that in awe about the fact that Eduard remembered the name of his dog? After he mentioned it at least ten times the week prior and bragged about how good of a name it was? It was adorable, actually. He should have felt hurt that Timo assumed he wasn't listening, but he got the feeling that he generally wasn't listened to. Maybe it's why he let go so much on the weekends? They all had their reasons. He wasn't particularly good at voicing his observations, and it wasn't his place to say, so he just nodded.

“It's hard to forget her. The way you made her sound. It seems like she's your whole world.”

“Well,” Timo laughed that off, reaching out to hold his hand. “She's sorta the best dog ever.”

Eduard pulled his hand away, and immediately felt awful about the hurt look on Timo's face. “I just... Not in public, okay?” What was the nature of this? Timo had beautiful eyes and a soft, round face. He knew that. Why did he never think it directly? This was an opportunity to build a friendship. _This was an opportunity to build a friendship._

“Sorry, I thought...” Oh. _Oh._ Clearly they were both awful at communicating. The silence returned, and while Eduard would have usually welcomed it (breaks in conversation allowed everyone to gather their thoughts), this one was awkward. It continued to be awkward as the two of them tried and failed to make successful small talk at the cafe, before returning once again to silence and blank staring at anything but each others' faces. This was hell.

“How long are you staying in Tallinn?”

“I spend the night sometimes. Others, I just take the ferry straight back to Helsinki.” Figures. That wasn't surprising.

“There's a couch in my apartment if you don't want to pay for the night.” Alfred was going out, and hopefully Ivan would leave him alone. He doubted the latter.

“Oh.”

“I... was thinking of going out for a few drinks myself? It helps take the edge off things.” _Like this awful pseudo-date._ He didn't even realize the implications he made, and to avoid looking embarrassed, he picked up his phone and pretended to... check something. It was more comfortable to stare blankly at the screen than at the cute, awkward mess in front of him.

“I would like that. So, um, I've done a lot of talking. Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself?” The hurt in Timo's voice was painfully obvious, and it took Eduard a moment to register that he shouldn't be using his phone crutch. Not this time. He set it back down on the table, glanced up and accidentally caught Timo's eye. They both looked back down at the table at the same time.

“I... there's not a lot to say, really.” Timo looked unconvinced and distant. “I mean, I work on the Tallink Silja line- you know that. I'm a graduate student in cyber security at Tallinn U. I'm 23. I... don't know. Why don't we continue this talk over drinks?” Please. _Please._ “Just because, I'm not particularly good at tea talk, you know? I'm getting the feeling you aren't super fond of it either.”

Timo nodded and toyed with the edge of a napkin, a smile returning to his face. It made Eduard's heart leap. “Fine. You better prepare some good stories though. You can't be _that_ boring.”

 

* * *

 

It really was so much easier on the wallet to just drink at home. He really, really should _not_ have offered to cover everything on his tab. He felt guilty, and Timo had this way of making you want to do things for him without thinking about it. He didn't seem to have any ulterior motives, and insisted on paying for himself at first. That changed after the first two shots, after which Timo quickly forgot that alcohol costs money. Neither of them were drunk after four rounds (or Timo just got much better at concealing the fact that he was), but conversation had gotten so much easier. Timo's carefree charisma returned with vodka, and while that should have been concerning, Eduard was well aware of his own found eloquence when he stopped caring.

Although, eloquence wasn't the right word. He was just more open. That was how it usually went, wasn't it? Alcohol cleared the awkward barriers that everyone wore in order to maintain their own, personal bubbles. It made it sting less when Timo blatantly told him to shut up about cognitive robotics.

“It's good to know that working customer service didn't completely drain you of any human passions!” Their awkward touches earlier had spun on their head, with Timo hanging over his shoulder and patting him on the back too hard not to wince. Eduard laughed it off though, the bright lights and EDM lulling him into the security of the present. It was nice to not constantly panic about consequences.

“Well, what? Is your job any less draining?”

“Why do you think I drink?” To emphasize his point, Timo flicked an empty shot glass across the bar counter, disappointed in how little it traveled. “The last thing I want to talk about right now is work. My... job situation isn't the most ideal.” Well, now he was curious. But they were still barely acquaintances. “You promised me good stories though. Things you do for school don't count. What do you do for fun?”

“Maybe I think my classes _are_ fun.”

Timo raised an eyebrow and pouted. If Eduard's face wasn't red before, it was now. Clinging to sobriety and pride, he averted his gaze to Timo's shoes.

“Well, I mean, I'm having fun right now. Does that count?” He surprised himself with his sincerity. The effect was doubled on Timo, as his eyes lit up and he struggled to deliver his comeback.

“I'd be having a lot more fun if you proved yourself not to be a boring nerd.”

“What? Are you looking for stories of murder and scandal?”

Timo raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any of those?” Eduard opened his mouth to speak and closed it, which triggered his companion to burst into howls of laughter. “I'm messing with you... in case it wasn't obvious.”

“Maybe I'm trying to mess with you too. I mean...” _one time I got dragged into someone else's fight and got a black eye and a broken arm_. _Ivan always picked fights over politics with the wrong people and since no one wants to try taking him down, I always end up paying for it._ “I'm much more content with passing under the radar.”

“I told you so much about me though. How do you even have friends?”

“Fair point. You can pay for your own drinks then.”

“What?” Timo slammed his shot glass against the bar counter, though it went unnoticed by anyone else but him over the shouts at televisions for some football game. “Man, I made an effort to give you my phone number because I thought you looked cute and sweet... like a puppy.”

Eduard couldn't hold back his laughter. “I knew you only talked about your dog for a reason. If you're so infatuated with puppies, maybe you should take her out instead.” Timo tried to push his shoulder but missed, which only made him laugh harder.

 

* * *

 

They had left relatively early after Timo tried to pick a fight with someone three times his size. At midnight, the stars were visible beyond the lights of the city, shining like pinholes in velvet. Eduard was content, the world taking on the fuzzy, warm glow that it usually did when he was intoxicated. And beside him, Timo had gotten over his sober shyness and took his hand. They still barely knew each other, but why did that matter? Even though Timo never said it explicitly, the implications in his language were that he needed to let go a little. He knew that the walls he built around himself were sturdy and well preserved. Hell, he was proud of his ability to shut people out to prioritize his safety. But texting a drunk stranger he met once at work? That itself was a breach in his usual rationale. Breaches led to change, and in his hazy mind, he was happy that Timo forced himself out of his comfort zone to force him out of his own.

He appreciated Timo's warmth against his skin, and the way that he leaned on him for support. Or, at the very least, he liked the moment. He wasn't a romantic person, but there was something about the summer night air that made it very hard to go inside. That, and the fact that Timo wasn't convinced that his apartment building was a place where people lived. It looked like housing for students and the working class, and the boxlike, hideous design was a testament to the equally hideous Soviet past that Eduard was so thankful he wasn't alive for.

“I didn't know a building so ugly could house someone so... not ugly.”

“Thanks, I guess.” At least Timo was honest and wasn't one for flattery. It made the entire process less embarrassing and prevented him from overthinking unlocking the door and inviting in a man he barely knew with open arms and a smile. “Well, make yourself at home? If it's messy, it's not mine so don't say anything.”

“Whose your friend, Edik?” Ivan's thick accent cut through their awkward warmth like a knife. Well, shit. He half expected him to be home but prayed it wouldn't be the case. Now he had to deal with introductions, and he knew for a fact that if they took their time, Ivan would dominate conversation and ask a bunch of grilling questions from things as pointless as preferences in music to danger zones like how they felt about closed border policies. He could deal with Ivan later. He saw him everyday.

“He's just a friend. It's no big deal.” He gripped Timo's arm to alert him to move, but the damned dense man didn't get the hint.

“Oh, hi. I need to use your bathroom.” Eloquent. Timo was truly a fine catch of a man.

Eduard could deal with this though. Ivan was briefly stunned and at a loss for words, which meant that his barrage of one-sided conversation was temporarily on hold. “How much have you been drinking, Edik? I fear for your liver.”

“That's really none of your business. I'm sorry, but can I get just a little bit of alone time tonight? Please.”

Ivan gave him a confused look. “This is your flat too, yes? If you wanted space, you could have just asked for it.”

Like hell he could. Unless he said 'stop' repeatedly, his roommates would drag him to hell and back. Luckily, Ivan seemed to read the mood for once and he was so thankful. Ivan was an emotion driven man, and his sensitivity to anything he perceived as criticism usually resulted in tears and forced bonding. He was glad that Ivan was in a neutral state. Especially since Timo had already wandered off.

 

* * *

 

Timo took exactly five minutes and thirty-five seconds in the bathroom. Eduard had counted every single drawn out second on the couch, with Ivan sitting on the opposite end in complete silence until the last thirty seconds.

“I didn't know you swung that way, Edik.”

“Please, stop.”

It was a few more painful seconds before Timo walked in and leaned against the frame of the door and made a comment about using the remainder of the soap and how girly of a scent it was. Eduard couldn't care less about the teasing remarks, grabbing Timo's hand and leading him to his room. The implications could go and damn themselves because the awkward atmosphere that he'd be dragged into tomorrow was much better than trying to converse with Ivan. He'd handle the finer details when he could think clearly.

This was it though. He sat on his unmade bed and let himself relax only to look up at the surprised Finn standing a meter away from him. Eduard fought the urge to avert his eyes and focused carefully on his words as best as he could. What was there to say though? The alcohol was leaving his system, and any fake charisma he had with it left.

“I... was really hoping no one was home. I swear I typically plan better than this. This just isn't something that I've...”

“Ever done before? Yeah. I can tell.”

Shit. Now he looked like an idiot and wanted nothing more than to bury himself under the blankets.

“Hey. Don't look so dejected. It's kinda cute.”

“Like a dog, right?”

“I was just messing with you.” Timo seemed a little hesitant himself, his legs were shaking as badly as Eduard's hands as he sat down next to him.

“I know.” Tentatively, Timo reached for one of his hands, rubbing his thumb over Eduard's palm in an attempt to soothe.

“If I misread, I can leave you alone. I just thought...”

Consequences be damned. Eduard only made decisions that would protect him in the future. He was so scared of being taken advantage of, and knew he was smart enough to avoid it. But what was the point if he didn't let go and take a careless risk every once in a while? While Timo hesitated and faltered back into insecurity, Eduard guided his cheek back to face him and pressed his lips against Timo's chapped ones.

He pulled away when Timo tensed, but was relieved to see him smiling back at him and reaching for his glasses

“These are annoying.” They sure were. Eduard didn't have the patience for Timo to fully remove them, and he scrambled to place them to the side before pulling Timo in once again.

It was clear that Timo had a bit more experience than him. For all of his initiative, Timo took much of the lead, deepening their kiss with a tongue pressed to Eduard's lips. It had been so long since he had been intimate with someone, and Timo was so gentle when his hands roamed across his clothed chest.

Timo reached between them, and brought the first button of Eduard's shirt through the hole before breaking contact and recoiling back. Was he doing something wrong? Eduard reached back out, wanting Timo's lips back on his again, but Timo spoke up first.

“Is this okay?” Really? He thought he was reacting appropriately.

“Yes?”

“But, you drank a lot so...”

“So did you. Don't think about it so much. Please. If you won't regret it then I certainly won't.”

“If you're so sure...”

“You never seemed like someone who focused too much on consequences.” He laughed it off, trying to clear any tension between them because Timo couldn't just _tease_ him like that and then give up. Well, he could, and Eduard would oblige, but wasn't the reckless abandon part of the appeal of these sort of ordeals? It'd probably be easier if either of them would stop beating around the bush. “I'm really, uh...” he attempted to make eye contact, but after being robbed of his glasses, he could barely see anything. “I'm really turned on right now, if that makes any difference.”

“Damn, you're really cute, you know that?”

“Come here.” He was shocking himself, but it was hard to focus on anything when his head was swimming and this cute boy was trying to conceal his embarrassment and open up. He closed the distance between them with another kiss, sneaking a hand underneath Timo's pullover and reveling in the tiny gasp he made when skin contacted skin. “You don't need this, do you?”

Timo did the work for him, pulling the sweatshirt over his head with just enough struggle to ease the pressure that Eduard felt. Because yes, they barely knew each other, but Timo was just as awkward as him no matter how he tried to hide it. And now that he was opening up, the insecurities came back in full. Timo wrapped his arms around himself for security.

“So, listen, I'm not in the best shape. So, I'm sorry if I'm disappointing.”

Tentatively, Eduard reached forward and placed his hand on Timo's shoulder, moving on to trace the outline of the collarbone. “You talk like I work out. Or that I'm made of muscle. Your skin is very soft. Don't worry.” His wandering hand moved downwards, pressed against Timo's chest before circling a finger around a nipple.

Looking up for confirmation, because damn, it had been a while for him, he was pleased to see that Timo had lost much of his hesitation. He reached for Eduard's other hand and placed it on the over the zipper on his jeans.

“I'm a get-to-the-point type.”

Oh. Well, he could do that. So was he. Sometimes.

The fact that Timo didn't wear a belt made the task of undoing his jeans much simpler. In addition, Timo was fine with doing most of the work, pulling them off one leg at a time. From there, it was easy to work off the cotton underwear... and get cold feet again. It had been so long since his last relationship, but Timo's impatience helped cover for any sudden insecurity that he felt. With a deep breath and a lot of effort to shut off the part of his brain that wanted to over-analyze everything; the one obsessed with perfection, he wrapped a hand around Timo's already half-hard dick and ran a finger over the head.

In spite of Timo's suggestion to just get things over with, Eduard maintained a painstakingly slow pace, making the best eye contact he could with the absence of his glasses. With his partner's face flushed, spreading a pink glow over round cheeks, he really didn't understand why Timo was so concerned. He was soft, with rounded curves instead of the sharp, pointed lines that made up Eduard's bone structure. He was pretty, in the most literal sense, and stood out among most of the working class, Finnish population because of it.

“Are you gonna hurry up?” It was harder to romanticize his totally typical personality though. And because Eduard was petty he removed his hand completely and relished in Timo's frustration.

“Are you gonna make me?” The pout that he received was enough answer that Timo wasn't about games, so he rolled his eyes and went to work on his own clothes, leaving them in a heap on the side of his bed. _Who was being no fun now?_ At least the awkward atmosphere had dissipated somewhat, and Timo's impatience meant that there were hands on him faster than he could reevaluate the situation.

 

* * *

 

The two of them ended up face-to-face, hands below on each other's cocks. Eduard attempted it take it further a few times, but Timo would always tense up. He was honestly surprised that he seemed to be the more adventurous and experienced of the two, but it wasn't like he was going to push boundaries. There were too many risks, the biggest being that he really liked Timo and wanted to be able to see him again. This was fine, and about as “get to the point” as one could get. It wasn't like Eduard was focusing much on anything else but getting off anymore anyways, and Timo's calloused, work-worn hands were a fantastic contrast to his otherwise soft and plush body. He could hear the ragged breaths of his partner in his ear turn into little whines and moans. They were both holding back, with Eduard biting his lip as Timo picked up the pace to a frantic level and gave particular focus to the head. It was enough to push Eduard over the edge, stilling to revel in the afterglow for only a moment before Timo spoke up.

“Can you help me too or should I just...”

“R...Right,” he replied. It was hard to keep up the pace he had prior, and it took longer to get Timo off than Eduard would have liked, but eventually, Timo reached down to help him. Moments later, he came into Eduard's hand and relaxed, relinquishing his grip on the sheets. Eduard took the opportunity to kiss him again, only half minding when Timo's messy, right hand held Eduard's cheek. He probably intended it to be tender, but Eduard must have made a face because he pulled away and apologized profusely.

“Yeah, no. It's normal,” Eduard shrugged, “Why don't you... clean up first.” It'd give him a few minutes to think things out. “Just... be quick. So you don't draw attention to yourself. I, uh, would like the attention to stay in here if that's fine?”

Reluctantly, Timo dragged himself out of bed. “Way to take the fun out of a hook-up.” But when he glanced back at Eduard, he was smiling.

 

* * *

 

Eduard woke up to a man he'd known for a week absolutely unconscious next to him, and something sharp jabbing into his back. Considering how blissfully Timo was sleeping, he felt little regret in that regard. The regret, instead, was when he sat up and removed his decimated glasses from beneath him. The were split clean in half, and how had he not remembered to put them on the nightstand? When Timo woke up, he laughed at Eduard's pathetic attempt to hold the rims together with tape.

“This is _your_ fault.” Still, even when Eduard attempted anger, he caught a glimpse of his handiwork in the mirror and burst into a fit of laughter himself.

“Yeah. Okay,” Timo wiped a fake tear away, “Well, maybe you'll be more careful next time.”

_Next time._ That made Eduard more hopeful than it should. “Also, you said you wanted an interesting story?”

Timo raised an eyebrow.

“I got in a fight once.” Well, sort of. It was a promise to talk in the future.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You'll have to text me about it later. I... have bigger concerns right now.”

He caught Timo's smile, and lead him to the door, thankful that Alfred or Ivan weren't hanging around in their poor excuse for a living room to chastise him about his messed up glasses, or... worse things.

“Hey,” Timo said, “Do you work next Saturday?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very comfortable with academic writing, but haven't published fiction (even online) for six years. If anything, I fear for it being hella boring. This is also my first time EVER publishing something even mildly NSFW. I aim, through fanfiction, to get more comfortable with writing longer, fictive works and to equally get more comfortable with... explicit content. Or something. Please let no one who knows me in real life find this and figure out it's me. I started this in August too and just finished it now because school + work so welcome to die.
> 
> Notes: I use the last name, Mägi, for Eduard here because von Bock is not an Estonian name, and there are cultural and historical implications that come with using it. Because, y'know, it's a noble, German last name. Native Estonians were historically treated as second class citizens up until the Estonian cultural renaissance in the mid-nineteenth century. Therefore, I take some issue with using von Bock in my own writings unless I want to talk about German imperialism. /o/


End file.
